


Cathartic

by orphan_account



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Blow Jobs, Eating Disorders, Emetophilia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 16:57:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18392516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Komaeda is sick.





	Cathartic

**Author's Note:**

> english is not my first language so probably there is a lot of mistakes. but i am trying!!!

Komaeda’s parents died before he could learn at all the art of cooking proper food. He knew the basics, maybe how to fry an egg, prepare sandwiches and boil pasta without the water overflowing out the pot, but that was all, and eating the same food over and over again was certainly boring. There was a moment where the food simply stopped to taste good.

He should try something new. He read cooking megazines, watched tutorial videos and culinary programs too and once he felt ready, he put all his new knowledge on practice. And he failed. And failed. And failed again one after another try.

He hated being such a spoiled kid, worthless scum noteven capable to do something as simple as that.

The food he cooked was barely eatable- hardly tasted fairly good. Of course, Komeade could eat it anyways and call that shameful act “survival”, but there's no way that could make him happy. Besides, why he would do that, when outside the door were infinity of food more delicious than anything he could cook?  
Even when buying the food made him feel more useless than usual, he had to admitt that doing it brought more pros than cons… or something like that:

1) He saved time, effort and money (junk food is so cheap!).  
2) There was more variety at his fingertips and the food was a way more tasty.

Even so, he kept cooking once in a while, he was sure that eating things done by someone else’s hands would do more harm than good in long terms. There were days in wich the time flew away in a sigh and for much hard he tried, he doesn’t had time for anything and much less for the kitchen . Those days, he filled his stomach entirely based on fast food, but he waited to came back home so he could do cleaning.

He wasn't aware of how bad it was, if it became an unhealthly habit or whatever. He started to wonder- perhaps, if someone knew what he was doing, they would stop him? They would put him an stop? But there was no one to call him out, so it didn't matter, so he had no choice but to suppose he was ok. He was all good. He felt good. Get home after a long day, open his mouth and lean in front of the toilet, and finally sneaking his fingers all the way down his throat looking for a gag reflex, so his stomach could flinch and throw up all the garbage he ate. Somewhat cathartic.

It hurted at the beginning. His eyes teared up a little and began to sweat cold from his back, but as fast as all ended he felt lighter, he thought that it was worth it. While he did not do it often, there was nothing to be worried of, didn't it? As long as it did not become an habit, he could go ahead with his life like he always did.

Except that, maybe, yeah, it kind of became an habit. A sort of a gross one, in a quiet way, so slowly he didn't notice until it was already late.

What thing was worse? The fact that he couldn't blame his luck? The moment when he had to face his fault? When the weight of his poor life decisions slapped him? He should noticed before, at least for the sickening way in wich he was able to see his veins through his pale skin, almost translucid, roots colored in an alarming deep blue tone. In those dark circles that sunked under his eyes, although Komaeda thought that he even was sleeping a lot more than ever- perhaps too much. He could sleep for twelve hours straight and although keeping feeling tired just at waking up, and not to mention the course of the day and how painfully difficult it was to pay attention and swallow all the things the people used to say.

But it was not alarming enough for Komaeda to do something about it. The day in wich definilety a red flag fluttered in his gut was when nothing more but saliva came out from his mouth, then, a slimy liquid of a disgusting yellowish tone that did not take much long to turn into pink and finally, a complet red.  
That thing was blood, Nagito was sure, while he watched the water run away inside the toilet in a foreign way, his nose wrinkled in a gesture of annnoyance and repulsion. His mind was empy, he couldn’t think about nothing. The only thing that seemed to make some noise was that warning inside his skull, a warning that kept yelling at him that he had to stop in some way, no matter what.

Komaeda didn't go to see a doctor, he didn't ask for help of any kind- he just waited, calmly, the things he messed up with would get together soon, he hoped. All by his luck, like all the important dicisions he made once in his life.

He didn't put his fingers inside his mouth ever again, all subsequent vomit he could say proudly that it wasn't provoked, but at that point of no return, event if he didn't looked for it anymore, he couldn't stop it. His body learned to get used to puke all food in a short lapse in such way that to ingesting anything he would end with an horrible stomachache that wouldn't stop until food was returned.

Pull the lever and watch how the swirls of water made disappear all the clues of his irresponsability became a part for his daily rutine. Every time it was more grotesque- more red than yellow, more thick and painful- it produced levels of a gruesome feeling similar to his existence itself. Sometimes he waited for a second before he could let it go he was dedicated to see that nauseating mixture looking to find shapes in it and he laughed at it once in a while when he encountered some abstract form, thinking about the shame he would feel if that were his cause of death in a not too far future.

He wondered if maybe Hinata would find it nasty if he knew. If at last he suspected it. Hinata wasn't dumb and he always used to see throught the more small details, but Hinata wouldn't face him, he wouldn't say anything about, he just would stay quiet. He wondered, then, if maybe Hinata didn't care about.

But the job of making Komaeda happy seemed to be a tasteless joke, it was so simple to sucess it looked pathetic and gross to watch. It would be enough for him if Hinata take him to the bathroom and take care to press him hard against his body in one of the cubicles to make all his doubts settle in bottom of his mind and the dark swamp of his chest to overflow with pure happiness.

In that place, Hinata kissed him and sometimes warned him to low his voice when their lips started to make noises needlessly wet, and Komaeda was amazed, he couldn't believe how much luck someone like him could meant to has. Even if they were in a semipublic place, the situation was kind of intimate, in the way that Hajime hissed against his index finger and gave him an accomplice smile, because the world had agreed to allow him to share a secret with someone so cool, so incredible and not enough with that, that someone seemed to be truly pleased with the piece of insignificant human being he was.

In some moment, when the things became hard to contain, Komaeda pressed their bodies from chest to knees, looking for a little more friction, not being able to wait anymore and he put his head adove the other's shoulder. It was not just the fact that he was excited, but he was also tired. His head throbbed in an unexpected headache and the floor under his feet didn't stop to move like wild water. It was hard to think, but soon he realized that he didn't need to.

“Can I…?” Komaeda gasped one more time and digged his nails in Hinata’s clothes, victim of his own frustration. What he wanted to say was in the tip of his tongue but he did not manage to develop it as good as he wanted to. “Can I…suck you?” 

Komaeda wetted his lips, dry and chapped, while Hinata were separating from him and let their cheeks touch, polite, like a kiss that faded away as soon as Hinata step back. Hajime sat at the edge of the toilet. Komaeda understood that action as a permission and quickly he prostrated before him on his knees. 

“Do you think you can do this?” Hinata said. He sounded like a mother to her child and Komaeda felt small. Komaeda didn't understeand what Hinata meant to say with that, and that made him feel insecure. Perhaps Hinata wasn't sure. Perhaps looking like an alive corpse made him doubt about the nature of the things.

“Yes” Komaeda answered, trying not only to convince Hinata but himself too “, I can.”

With his temples beating, he started to undoing Hinata's belt, then the buttons and the trouser closure. His hands shaked all the time, but he nodded as if with that he reformed his words and not wanting to waste any time left, he taked Hinata's dick out of his underwear. It was already half-hard, Komaeda watched it for a short time and had the urge to spit on it, but his mouth was drier than it never was. So he simply put it in, hoping that the little humidity inside him were enough.

He began slow. With just the head between his lips, he made Hinata exhale deeply. He let his tongue rub the bottom part of the erection and moaned drowned out at the pressure of the dick growing more big inside his mouth. He hid his teeth behind his lips and made sure to tighten his insides befere to push his head back and in that way, free the dick with a sucking noise behind him.

Hinata sobbed loudly. This time Nagito was the one who asked him to control his voice.

He kept eye contact before he swallowed it again. His head felt dizzy but his body was hot and even if he was all disguting he could swear that was one of the best moments in his whole life. While a hand held the base with the other he clung to Hinata's left thigh. His nails bent in promise to burst when they couldn't burry themselves in the smooth fabric of Hinata's clothes and that simple gesture kept Hinata at the edge of lossing himself, he couldn't do anything more but whisper Komaeda's name and grabbing his platinum hair out of his face so he could see every single faction without nothing to bother.

Hinata forced Komaeda's face to get closer to his crotch and Komaeda taked that as the incentive he was looking for to decide to take it all. He opened his mouth as much as he could, wide as much as his jaw allowed and burried his head between Hinata´s legs.

After a while he began to salivate. The erection disappeared inside his mouth slowly, like if it had always waited for that moment and when the glans touched his palate he felt a tickling. Then, all turned to the worse.

He tried, he really tried his best. He tried to stop the vomit, but his stomach wouldn't listen and instead, it contracted itself more and more when he tried to swallow. In matter of just a second eveything turned upside down and he felt like he was drowning, the tears accumulating at the corner of his eyes.

When he tried to breathe, his throat spit it all in a new wave of gags. Still with Hinata inside his mouth, take a breath was imposible if every time he tried to do it, the bile was bubbling like if it was on his lungs too.

He quickly retired between coughs and a bitter crying. His throat was burning like he spited fire. He did not dare to look at Hinata, not when he was the guilty one to crawl him at this mess, he felt dirty. So he looked at the floor, it was stained, all the place was stained. The scene grossed him out, enough for him to throw up again, this time more sporadic and terse. The only thing that came out was saliva and blood.

“Are you okay?” Hinata spoke. His voice was shaking. He couldn't name that tone in anyway. It was warm and kind, even if he was worried. He was truly worried about him, and it made Komaeda feel worse.

Hinata didn't seem to be mad at him nor did he put him aside and Komaeda didn't understeand why, when Hinata had all the right to do so. Instead, Hinata ran a hand through the back of his neck in a sympathetic way.

Nagito was still with his lips half-opened, he couldn't finish to assimilate the things just happened. He was so awful, he couldn't stand it.

A line barely visible of bloody saliva joined his lips with the tip of Hinata's dick together- it was pink, more pink than usual and it was not because of the blood concentrating on that point of the body but it was because of the bile he spilled. The only thing he was able to think about was in how good it felt when Hinata petted the back of his head, in how much Komaeda cherished him and regardless of how strong his love was, he didn't deserve it.   
He taked a moment to think about the shame he was feeling; it was a privilege.

He closed his eyes and his retinas burned a little. How tired he felt. 

When he opened his eyes, Hinata looked at him with a troubled expression. 

“I’m fine” he answered in a lie. His head was hurting but Hinata could live without knowing. “and I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry. You don't need to forgive me.”

The words came out from his mouth disorderly. There's lots of thing he wanted to said, but he kept apologizing.

“This can be fixed, Komaeda, please don't worry.” Hinata said, gasping.

“You're right” Komaeda agreed quickly. ”I can fix this.” 

Komaeda felt like he was about tu burst and licked repeatedly his lips. He wanted Hinata to feel the euphoria he was feeling with the same intensity he felt. He wanted Hinata to feel good. He breathed deeply, still sank on his knees. The air was so heavy through his nose it made a hissing sound.

“I messed up, but… let me try again.”

**Author's Note:**

> gracias Rouge por tooooda tu ayuda!! eres un ángel lo juro


End file.
